I know

I know the stones in the river should move
Should evolve with the sparkling sand and gold
But I am still afraid in the nights
I walk backwards in fear to let it go

I know the clouds in my eyes shouldl move
Like fishes of light entangled in deep roots
They crossed once the gates of the moon
They looked for crumbles of blue

But I know I should face the ghost of my ghost
The mirror of myself 
- a warrior or a wounded dove?
I know I was born in a night of storm
But my heart is yet not so strong

And I know I should leave for good
Take the train to the South with no return
Without fears I should travel 

I should undress in the wagon
my wounds
And throw away in the desert 
my bags

But I tremble in fears
I am still afraid in the dark
And again

I walk away from those tracks
Knowing that I should not

And I run once more 
To the gates of the moon

Looking for droplets of love
looking for crumbles of blue

Wishing silently to be at last 
and no more to be afraid 
of these nights

Poetry & Painting by Piccola D.

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